English & Other 243. James Harris (Daemon Lover)
CONTENTS:
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A Warning for Married Women [Child ballad #243 A.] ZN2466. Entered Feb. 21, 1657. Published by Laurence Price:
A warning for married Women.
By the example of Mrs. Jane Renalds, a west-Country Woman, born neer unto Plymouth; who having plighted her troth to a
Sea-man, was afterwards Married to a Carpenter, and at last carried away by a Spirit: the manner how shall be presently recited. The Fair Maid of Bristol. Or, Bateman, or, John True
There dwelt a fair Maid in the West,
of worthy birth and Fame,
Neer unto Plimouth stately Town,
Jane Renalds was her name.
This Damsel deerly was beloved
by many a proper Youth,
And what of her is to be said,
is known for very truth.
Amongst the rest a Sea-man brave
unto her a wooing came;
A comely proper Youth was he,
Iame[s] Harris was his name.
This Maid and Youngman were well agreed
as time did them allow:
And to each other secretely,
they made a solemn vow.
That they would ever faithful be,
whilst Heaven afforded life:
He was to be her Husband kind,
and she his loving Wife.
A day appointed was also,
when they were to be married:
But before these things were brought to pass
matters were strangely carried.
All you that fatal Lovers be,
give ear and hearken well;
An what of them became at last,
I will dirictly tell.
The Young-man he was Prest to Sea,
and forc'd he was to go;
His Sweet-heart she must stay behind,
whether she would or no.
And after she was from him gone,
she three long years for him stayed,
Expecting of his coming home again,
and kept her self a Maid.
At last came news that he was dead
within a Foreign Land,
And how that he was buried,
she well did understand.
For whose sweet sake the Maiden she,
lamented many a day,
And never was she known at all
the wanton for to play.
A Carpenter that lived hard by,
when he heard of the same,
Like as the other had done before,
to her a Wooing came.
But when that he had gain'd her love,
they married were with speed;
And four years space being man & wife
they lovingly agrreed.
Three pretty Children in that time,
this loving Couple had;
Which made their Father['s] heart rejoyce
and Mother wondrous glad.
But as occasion serv'd one time,
the Good-man took his way,
Some three days journy from his home
intending for to stay.
But whilst that he was gone away.
a Spirit in the night,
Came to the window of the house,
and did her sorely fright.
Which Spirit spake like to a man,
and unto her did say.
My dear and only love (quoth he)
prepare and come away.
James Harris is my name (quoth he)
whom thou didst love so dear,
And I have travelled for thy sake,
at least this long seven year.
And now I am returned again,
to take thee to my wife;
And thou with me shall go to Sea,
to end all further strife.
O tempt me not sweet James (she said)
with thee away to go;
If I should leave my Children small
alas what should they do.
My Husband is a Carpenter,
and a Carpenter of great fame,
I would not for five hundred pounds,
that he should know the same.
I might have had a Kings Daughter,
and she would have married with me,
But I forsook her golden crown,
and all for love of thee.
Therefore if thou wilt thy husband forsake,
and thy children three also,
I will forgive all that is past,
if thou with me wilt go.
If I forsake my Husband, and
my little Children three,
What means hast thou to bring me too,
if I should go with thee.
I have seven Ships upon the Sea,
when they are come to Land,
Both Mariners and Merchandize
shall be at thy command.
The Ship wherein my Love shall sail,
so glorious to behold:
The Sails shall be of the finest Silk,
and the Masts of shining Gold.
When he had told her these fair tales,
to love him she began:
Because he was in humane shape,
she thought he had bin a man.
And so together away they went,
from off the English shore,
And since that time the woman kind,
was never heard of more.
But when her Husband he came home.
and found his wife was gone,
And left her sweet pretty Babes
within the house alone.
He beat his brest, he tore his hair,
the tears fell from his eyes,
And in the open streets he run,
with heavy doleful cryes.
And in this sad distracted case
he hang'd himself for woe,
Upon a tree neer to that place,
the truth of all is so.
The Children now are fatherless,
and left without a guide;
But yet no doubt but heavenly powers,
will for them well provide.
Finis, L.P.
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, and W. Gilbertson.
[Entered in Stationers' Register to Francis Grove, Feb. 21, 1657. The copy above is the earliest extant, and is of 1663-4, shortly after Grove died.]
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Having read the above reference to an Irish tradition for this ballad, I thought you might be interested to see the text of the one Irish version that I know of. I don't have time to go into a comparison now, but will try later. 'The Banks of Sweet Viledee' appears on a cassette called 'Early Ballads in Ireland', sung in 1983 by one Frank Browne, from Ballingare, Co. Roscommon, who appears to have been a song collector rather than a source singer - I hope someone will correct me if I'm wrong on that score. Cathy Jordan of Dervish learnt it directly from Mr. Browne, and if you want to get some idea of the tune, here are Dervish taking more than a few liberties with it. In Browne's rendition I can hear echoes of the magnificent tune that the Hammond brothers found with the fragmentary English version they noted from Marina Russell in the 1900s. It's closer to that than to the usual American tune, anyway.
THE BANKS OF THE SWEET VILEDEE
Well met, well met, my own true love
Well met, my love, by thee
I have just arrived from the salt, salt sea
And it's all for the love of thee, my love
And it's all for the love of thee
Now I could have married a great king's daughter
And have myself to blame
For it's tons of gold I have refused
And it's all for the love of thee, my love
All for the love of thee
Now if you could have married a great king's daughter
And have yourself to blame
I have married a house-carpenter
And I think he's a nice young man, my love
And I think he's a nice young man
If you do leave you house-carpenter
And come along with me
I'll take you to where the grass grows green
On the banks of the Sweet Viledee, my love
On the banks of the Sweet Viledee
If I do leave my house-carpenter
And go along with thee
What have you there to support me with
Or keep me from slavery, my love?
Or keep me from slavery?
I have six ships now sailing out
And seven more on sea
Three hundred and ten all jolly sailsmen
And they're all to wait on thee, my love
And they're all for to wait on thee
She dressed her baby neat and clean
And gave him kisses three
Saying, "Stay, stay here, my darling baby boy
And your father as company, my love
And your father as company"
She dressed herself in a suit of red
And her maiden's waist was green
And every town that they passed by
Sure, they took her to be some queen, my love
They took her to be some queen
We were not two days out at sea
And I'm sure we were not three
When this fair maid began to weep
And she wept most bitterly, my love
And she wept most bitterly
My curse, my curse, upon all seamen
Who brought me out on sea
And deprived me of my house-carpenter
On the banks of the Sweet Viledee, my love
On the banks of the Sweet Viledee
We were butt three days out on sea
And I'm sure we were not four
When this fair maid disappeared from the deck
And she sank to rise no more, my love
And she sank to rise no more
This is the note to 'Vildee' from 'Early Ballads in Ireland' (a must for ballad buffs - soon to be issued on CD by the Goilin Singers Club nudge-nudge to all concerned)
"Frank Browne, aged about 70 (the cassette was issued in 1985) , farmer, Rathnollaig, Belnagare, Co. Roscommon, on June 1983 in the home of Bairbre O'Flynne, Dublin, who for some years recorded songs and folklore from Frank at his home and in Dublin. Apparently not recorded elsewhere in Ireland, but common in America, where Frank was born and lived to an early age."
We met Frank once when he was asked to sing at a ballad conference in Dublin. He appeared to have a reasonable repertoire of traditional songs and was well able to sing them.
As the note says, he was a farmer and could in no way be described as a collector, certainly no more than any traditional singer could be described as one (weren't all traditional singers 'collectors' in their own way?)
I have no knowledge of Frank other than that, but I'm sure Bairbre, who works at the Folklore Department at UCD, would be happy to pass on what she knows; the recordings of Frank, along with any information on him, should be housed at the archive there.
Jim Carroll
Compass Records have to say about the ballad:
"The Banks of Sweet Viledee was discovered when Cathy Jordan spent a memorable afternoon with the late Frank Browne, from Ballingare, Co. Roscommon, one of the few song collectors from that county. He was the sole collector of the song which is also known as The Demon Lover and James Harris. The location of Viledee is unknown but it maybe a corruption of a particular place name. Frank died in early 1998 the song is dedicated this song to Frank's memory. There was a Maid in her Father's Garden was also collected from Frank Browne also and has a similar theme to The Banks of Sweet Viledee. It's known by several titles and is among the commonest English songs sung in Ireland, in which the usual starting point is the return of an unrecognised young man after a considerable length of time."
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Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland: Volume 1; Baring-Gould
JAMES HERRIES. Page 209. Sir Walter Scott has given a ballad under the designation of the "Daemon Lover," vol. ii. p. 427, of the Border Minstrelsy, which he says was taken down from recitation by Mr William Laidlaw. In this ballad, a few of the incidents are narrated; but it wants all the particulars which render it either perfect, or complete. In the Minstrelsy Ancient and Modern, is a fragment given, all that could be procured by the indefatigable editor of that work. I am therefore happy to say, I have it now in my power to convince my esteemed friend, there is still a perfect copy of this curious and scarce legend in existence, which is now, for the first time, given to the public. In this ballad, it is not a demon or fiend, that betrays Jeannie Douglas, but the spirit of her own first true love, James Hemes, who had died abroad, but now come to punish her for perjury, infidelity, and to recover from her the pledges of her broken vows.
James Herres was a branch of the Anglo-Norman family of Heriz, who came into Scotland during the age of David. It is more than probable, that the same William de Heriz, who appears to have attached himself to David L, and his son Henry, may have settled in Scotland. The representative of all those Herizes, Sir Herbert, obtained the title of Lord Herries of Terregles in 1493. From this stock are sprung the several families of Herris in Scotland.—Caledonia.
0 are ye my father, or are ye my mother 1
'0r are ye my brother John
0r are ye James Herries, my first true love,
Come back to Scotland again?
1 am not your father, I am not your mother,
Nor am I your brother John;
But I'm James Herries, your first true love,
Come back to Scotland again.
Awa', awa', ye former lovers,
Had far awa' frae me;
For now I am another man's wife,
Ye'll ne'er see joy o' me.
Had I kent that ere I came here,
I ne'er had come to thee;
For I might hae married the king's daughter,
Sae fain she wou'd had me.
I despised the crown o' gold,
The yellow silk also;
And I am come to my true love,
But with me she'll not go.
My husband he is a carpenter,
Makes his bread on dry land,
And I hae born him a young son,—
Wi' you I will not gang.
You must forsake your dear husband,
Your little young son also,
Wi' me to sail the raging seas,
Where the stormy winds do blow.
0 what hae you to keep me wi',
If I should with you go?
If I'd forsake my dear husband,
My little young son also?
See ye not yon seven pretty ships,
The eighth brought me to land;
With merchandize and mariners,
And wealth in every hand?
She turn'd her round upon the shore,
Her love's ships to behold;
Their topmasts and their mainyards,
Were cover'd o'er wi' gold.
Then she's gane to her little young son,
And kiss'd him cheek and chin;
Sae has she to her sleeping husband,
And dune the same to him.
0 sleep ye, wake ye, my husband,
I wish ye wake in time;
I woudna for ten thousand pounds,
This night ye knew my mind.
She's drawn the slippers on her feet,
Were cover'd o'er wi' gold;
Well lined within wi' velvet fine,
To had her frae the cold.
She hadna sailed upon the sea
A league but barely three,
Till she minded on her dear husband,
Her little young son tee.
0 gin I were at land again,
At land where I wou'd be,
The woman ne'er should bear the son
Shou'd gar me sail the sea.
0 hold your tongue, my sprightly flower,
Let a' your mourning be;
I'll show you how the lilies grow
0n the banks o' Italy.
She hadna sailed on the sea
A day but barely ane.
Till the thoughts o' grief came in her mind,
And she lang'd for to be hame.
0 gentle death, come cut my breath,
I may be dead ere morn;
I may be buried in Scottish ground,
Where I was bred and born.